4, 12, and 24 for the book meme?

OH THESE WERE GOOD ONES.  XD  Thanks @takethewatch​!

Anyone else want to play?  Either this one or the headcanon meme?

Quick, you’re in desperate need of a fake name. What character name do you think of first?

Oh gosh.  I actually have no idea.  The only name that comes to mind is Rebecca, but that has absolutely nothing to do with any book.  It’s my Hebrew name.  O_o;;;

First book(s) you remember being obsessed with 

…I’m actually not sure I remember.  It’s honestly rarer that I DON’T get obsessed with a book.  O_o;;;  Like, I remember being full on obsessed with this book called Marshmallow about a bunny named Marshmallow and I used to take it out of the school library like… every week, and that was in first grade?  Second grade?  I was obsessing about books for as long as I was reading them.  Though, now that I’m thinking about it, the first book I loved enough to be obsessively fannish about (back before I knew what fandom was) was probably Snow Dog by Jim Kjelgaard.  I mean… I had a friend who I used to roleplay characters from the book with.  We made up headcanons.  It was definitely a fannish level of obsession.  So, probably that one.  ^_^  And that was maybe fourth grade?  Marguerite Henry’s books were up there, too, I’m sure, and that would have started in third grade, I think.

Tell one book story or memory (what you were wearing when you were
reading something, someone saw you cry in public, you threw a book
across the room and broke a window, etc.)

AHAHAHA.  Oh I was hoping someone would ask this one, because there is only one story I can tell here.  It’s about the summer I read Jurassic Park.  *snickers*  I was sixteen or seventeen or something?  Anyway, the first thing I should mention is that there had been a lot of really weird coincidences surrounding my reading this book.  Little things like @tirrasae​ and I had been CITs at the same horseback riding camp and found these GIANT FREAKING LEAVES that could have BEEN from Jurassic Park and it freaked me out, but whatever, I kept reading.  And this one night, there was this really intense summer storm.  The kind of storm where you see the lightning flash and the thunder crashes almost before the lightning is over and you just KNOW you’re going to lose power in the house, you know?  But I was SO CLOSE to being done with the book and I just wanted to finish it before we lost power.

I feel that this is where I should take a moment out to say… I don’t deal well with horror.  Not in any way shape or form.  If it is scary or suspenseful or anything like that, it terrifies me.  It terrifies me in this deep primal way that means I won’t be sleeping for the next few weeks… or months.  My imagination is WAY too overactive and it doesn’t take much to have it running away with itself.  😛

…basically what I’m saying is that this was NOT the book to be reading in the middle of a really intense summer storm when we could lose power any minute and it had already been freaking me out all summer.

SO… of course, I finished it anyway.  And the minute I closed it and put it down, I knew that had been a grave error on my part.  I was freaked RIGHT the fuck out.  So, I knew I needed to do something to calm myself down.  Music.  I’d listen to music.  I got up off my bed and crossed the room to turn on the radio… and bare moments after that music went on… the power went out.


I was NOT having that.  Nope nope nope nope nope.  I was already freaked out and now there was no music and no light and I was all alone and this was NOT GOOD and I needed company STAT.  Fortunately, I remembered that my mom had come upstairs to take a shower not that long ago and I figured that if I went to go hang out across the hall in her room that eventually she’d turn up there after her shower, especially now that there was no power.

I opened the door to my room, sans flashlight, because of COURSE the batteries in mine were dead and this was before people really had cell phones, especially ones with backlighting and/or flashlights, and inched out into the hallway. 

Another thing you have to understand – the upstairs at my parents’ house is basically a little landing with all the rooms opening onto it.  If they’re cozy, maybe three people can stand there at once and the stairs are RIGHT THERE, so if anyone isn’t careful, they’ll go tumbling right down.

So, I inched out into that little hallway, then jumped and made to dash across to my parents’ room when the thunder crashed again… and promptly tripped over this HUGE HARD THING (about hip/mid-chest height) THAT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY DOOR.  I caught myself by lunging to grab the doorknob to my mom’s room JUST before I would have gone ass over teakettle down the stairs.  OW.  O_o;;;

Just as I’m hauling myself up by the doorknob, now shaking like a fucking LEAF IN A GALE and swearing up and down that I’m never reading anything but fluff during a storm EVER AGAIN, I hear my mom call out from inside the bathroom:

“Oh!  If you’re coming out of your room, be careful–I put the vacuum cleaner outside your door!”


I swallowed down a truly hysterical fit of SOMETHING and said, as calmly as I could, “Yep!  Figured that out already, but thanks for the heads up!” then fled into her room and crawled under the covers and refused to come out until she was there.

And THAT is why I don’t read Michael Crichton anymore.


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